


Dungeoneering and Dragons

by smudgythoughts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Characters play D&D, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Fluff, Gen, Retired Hunter Winchesters (Supernatural), dean is a card carrying nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 19:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14315340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smudgythoughts/pseuds/smudgythoughts
Summary: Sam clears his throat. “I’m a dwarf wizard named Thorin, and uhh, I can do magic.”Dean laughs. “You’re adwarf?”“Yes,” Sam says defensively. “Sometimes it’s a lot of pressure to always be the tall one."Or, the squad takes a much needed break and play a game of D&D.





	Dungeoneering and Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> this fic arouse because of the severe lack of supernatural D&D fic, and also because it was my sister's birthday yesterday, and I gave it to her as a birthday present! which is also why there's only _implied_ deancas, as she's kind of ehh about non canon ships. I couldn't resist slipping in some gay though. my sister liked it, too. she went on for a few minutes about how much she LOVED the ending and it made me feel really good.
> 
> thanks to Jennifer/wargurl83 on the ProfoundBond sever for beta-ing! as always, all mistakes are mine.
> 
> I tried to write this in such a way that people who haven't played D&D before, and veteran D&D players could understand what was going on. I hope everyone enjoys!

“No, absolutely not,” Sam says, shaking his head so fast Dean’s worried it will fall off.

“C’mon, join us for just one round of Dungeons and Dragons. It’ll be fun,” Dean insists.

“No,” Sam says again, more loudly this time. “I know you, Dean, and I know that you’ll go all out for this and buy a full suit of armor or something and a set of fancy dice that will cost you like forty bucks, and maybe even little figures—”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Dean interrupts. “I _already_ bought all that stuff. And a pair of dice for you. Which I expect a thank you for, by the way, once you’re over this temper tantrum.”

Sam opens his mouth like he wants to protest further, but Dean quickly cuts him off. “Even with Alicia as the Dungeon Master, and Max there, and Cas too, because he can’t say no to me, we’ll still have a pitiful party of four.”

“Good, it’s what you deserve,” Sam says. He takes a long sip of his coffee. Dean hopes he burns his tongue on it.

“What else will you be doing, anyway?”

“Having a life,” Sam says, with no hesitation.

Dean sighs. It’s time to bring in the big guns.

//

“Hey Cas, are you busy?” Dean asks.

Castiel has made himself comfortable in one of the ancient armchairs in the library, a dusty book in propped open in his lap. He looks up and squints at Dean.

“Well right now I’m reading about some of the most devastating pandemics in your human history, and what the effect of modern plumbing would have on—”

“So not busy, then.”

Cas gives Dean the biggest eye roll of the century. “No, you’re right, I’ll drop everything to help you with whatever miniscule human problem you are dealing with.” Dean can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not.

“Okay, thanks, buddy. So, you know the Dungeons and Dragons group I mentioned? The one Alicia Banes is setting up and invited us to join?”

Dean’s pretty sure he hears Cas mutter “only a million times” under his breath but ignores it in favor of excitedly hopping his leg up and down. “Well apparently Sam doesn’t want to join it. I was wondering if you could help me convince him that it’s in his best interest.”

“Dean, Sam is allowed to not participate in something you want to do,” Cas drones on. “He’s his own person.”

“But I know he’ll really like this if he just gave it a chance” Dean insists. “Cas, buddy, _please_? For me?”

Cas stares at Dean for a long moment before sighing in defeat. “Okay. But next time we go to Walmart you have to buy me those bee-patterned pajamas I liked the last time we went.”

“Deal.” Dean holds out his hand, which Cas takes and shakes. Dean has a giant grin on his face that he doesn’t think anything could wipe off his face. The only way this could be any better was if Charlie was playing with them.

//

“Oh no Cas, not you too,” Sam says, staring at Cas with a look of horror on his face as Cas advances on him. “What did Dean bribe you with to get you to agree to this? Was it his burgers?”

“No, bee pajamas, believe it or not,” Dean says.

“Sam, would you please just agree to join us for this Dungeoneering and Dragons—”

“—Dungeons and Dragons,” Dean interrupts.

“—yes, that. You know just as well as I do that Dean will just become more and more annoying until you agree to this scheme of his.”

Sam pauses for a second like he’s actually considering, then gives Cas a small smile. “Okay, but only because _you_ asked. And also, because you’re right; I can only handle Dean being annoying up to a certain point.”

“Hey!”

//

They’re hosting the D&D meeting at the Bunker because it’s the only place with a large enough table to play on, and a collection of guest rooms people can sleep over in.

When Alicia enters the Bunker, she’s carrying large grocery bags in each hand. Dean eyes them up like they’re a slice of warm pie, knowing they’re the DMing supplies Alicia brought. He can’t wait to see what she has in store for them.

Alicia greets him with a shy smile, her brother barging in after her. Max gives Dean a bear hug, then goes and gives Sam and Cas the same treatment. Alicia goes and puts her bags on the table in the central room. Dean can’t seem to stop smiling.

“Yeah, so we have some snacks prepared,” Dean says, speaking a mile a minute. “Sam looked up D&D type snacks on, what was it—”

“Pinterest.”

“Yeah, that fancy website. Cas helped me out with making them.”

“Sorry if they’re a bit burnt,” Cas says, eyes darting towards the floor, looking embarrassed.

“C’mon, you’re a cook-in-training, remember. You’re allowed to not be a hundred percent perfect.”

“I don’t think those are the words you used an hour ago, when there was smoke coming out of your new oven.”

Dean doesn’t have a good comeback for that. Instead he goes into the kitchen and comes back, his arms laden with food. There’s a plate of cookies that, even having used a cookie cutter, resemble a pile of pink poop more than the 20-sided dice they were meant to be. There’s also some stuffed mushrooms that Dean doesn’t plan on touching, he just made them so Sam doesn’t starve. There’s also a few rolls that were shaped to looks like rats, that Dean already dug into within five minutes of them cooling off.

“Ooh, these look good,” Max says, reaching for a cookie.

“Thanks,” Dean says giddily, a warm feeling settling deep in his chest.

“After you’re done stuffing yourselves with cookies, you can start off with creating your character,” Alicia says, spreading out a stack of folders of all colors. She pulls out a few character sheets, tables, and a stapled packet listing what looks likes the races and classes. Dean can appreciate her organization. Though if Dean were DMing he would have brought a pack of highlighters too.

//

Just as Dean’s put the finishing touches on his character sheet he hears heavy footsteps, then the sound of the Bunker door opening and closing.

Dean scrambles to unlatch the gun he keeps under the table at all times.

“No, Dean, wait,” Cas says, but Dean’s already made his way to the bottom of the stairs, gun barrel pointed at the door.

Blonde curls, a smirk, and a leather jacket appear. Claire. Dean lowers his gun.

“Do you treat all your guests like this?” Claire asks.

“Only the annoying ones.” When Claire reaches him, Dean embraces her in a one-armed hug. She smells of fresh pines, with a hint of the musty tang of blood. “Have you been hunting again?”

“Yes, _Dad_. Kaia’s killer isn’t going to track themselves,” Claire resorts. When Cas reaches around Dean and pulls Claire into another hug, she mutters, “Oh hey, other Dad.”

“Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here?” Dean asks her.

“She’s here because of me, actually,” Cas explains. “I thought she could use a break from hunting, and less murder-y things for a little bit. Dungeoneering and Dragons,” Dean grimaces, “sounded like the perfect opportunity.”

“I hope you don’t mind that I brought Patience along too. Alex was working extra hours at the hospital, and Patience looked bored at the house all by herself.”

Patience enters the door of the Bunker, giving them a fleeting smile that falls away when her gaze drops to the gun held loosely in Dean’s grip. Sheepishly, Dean tucks his gun into the back of his shirt.

“Hello,” Patience says. “My school actually has—well, _had_ , as I’m not going there anymore—a D&D club that I was a part of. It should be fun to play with a bunch of people who haven’t played before.”

“Actually, I have,” Alicia pipes up.

“Oh, I don’t think you guys have met,” Sam says, ever the gracious host. “Claire, Patience, these are Alicia and Max Banes. They’re… witch-slash-hunter twins who have helped us on a few hunts.”

There’s an echo of “hey”s from all sides.

“Patience, do you already have a character you want to play with?” Alicia asks.

“Yes. She’s a six-foot-tall orc.”

“Hell yeah,” Dean mumbles under his breath. “This is gonna be awesome.”

//

“The five of you are in a tavern together, having all gotten an invitation from a mysterious person wearing a black cloak. While you’re waiting for the person to return with drinks, why don’t you all introduce yourselves? Make sure to list your race and class, too.”

“I am Sutha, an orc barbarian, and I’m just here to kill people and have fun,” Patience says.

“I’m named Drema, and yes I know it’s a stupid name, and I’m a half-elf fighter. I’m closer to my trusty axe than I am any other people,” Claire says.

“My name is Steve, and I am a human cleric,” Cas begins. “I used to be a simple beekeeper, until goblin forces fell on my sheltered village and I was forced to take up arms. Well, the needle, as I do more healing than fighting, though I am skilled with knives when the situation calls for it, as you can tell by the +4 as my dexterity modifier. Unbeknownst to myself, I come from a long line—”

“Cas, buddy, I think that’s enough backstory for now,” Dean says. He feels bad about interrupting Cas, but they can’t be here all night.

“Sorry,” Cas says, blushing from embarrassment.

“S’ alright.” Dean smiles at him. “Anyway, my character’s name is Jensen, and he’s a dragonborn ranger who’s popular with the ladies.” Dean winks, at no one in particular, but it falls flat. “And, uh, his journey began with the tragic death of his mother, at the hands of a group of goblins. Because of that, he has a deep-seeded distrust of goblins.”

Sam clears his throat. “I’m a dwarf wizard named Thorin, and uhh, I can do magic.”

Dean laughs. “You’re a _dwarf_?”

“Yes,” Sam says defensively. “Sometimes it’s a lot of pressure to always be the tall one. This is fantasy, so it’s nice to let go and be less than five feet tall.”

Dean is still laughing as when it gets to Max’s turn. “My name is Akmenos, and I’m a tiefling sorcerer who’s popular with the _fellas_. Also, I’m a level four, while you guys are all level one, so you have to do what I say automatically.”

“Oh, like that’s going to work,” Claire says, while Dean snorts and says, “Yeah, right.”

Cas peers at Max. “You have to earn our respect.”

“Okay, guys, I get it,” Max says. “I thought it was at least worth a try.”

“The cloaked figure returns. After setting down your drinks on your table, she pulls back her hood. She is a dark-skinned elf, with short curly hair, and a lip-piercing, and is wearing blue metal armor.”

Max makes a strangled sound partway between a laugh and a cough.

“What is it?” Sam asks.

Max wheezes out an answer in between giggling. “Alicia, you have _got_ to stop basing NPCs on your girlfriend, okay?”

“You have a girlfriend?” Claire asks. Her eyes are wide as moons.

“Yes,” Alicia says, the biggest smile on her face Dean’s seen since her met her. “She’s funny and sweet. A hunter just like you guys.”

“Oh, a hunter girlfriend. That’s cool. Really cool,” Claire says.

“The elf introduces herself as Brenda,” Alicia pauses for a second as her brother breaks into another fit of giggles. Alicia pitches her voice a little lower, though still very much feminine, as she goes on, “My grandmother has been missing for the last couple of days, and all signs point to a goblin kidnapping. I don’t know who to turn to. The Watch have tacked it down to my grandmother being old and senile, probably wandering away on her own, but I know that’s not the truth. I sent you all invitations to meet at this spot, because I know you are all very skilled and noble. Could you please help me?”

Dean opens his mouth to say “hell yes”, because this sounds awesome, when Patience shoots him a glare, the first expression other that a wide-eyed, dreamy look on her face he’s seen. She must mean business.

“First of all, can I ask what we will be payed?” Patience asks.

“Ahh, yes. Is it too much to ask that you will do this for me out of the goodness of your heart?” Alicia asks, voice laced with concern. Damn, she’s good at this. If Dean squints a little, he can even pretend that she’s really an elf, instead of her boring witch hunter self, trying to send them off on a quest.

“Yes,” Claire says flatly, though Dean can tell she’s fighting off a smile.

“Well, in that case, it’s five gold pieces. For each of you.”

“Is that a lot?” Cas asks, tilting his head.

“Yeah,” Dean says, shaking his head up and down. “Ten copper pieces are equal to one silver piece, and ten silver pieces equal one gold, so a hundred copper pieces equal one gold piece, so I would say that it’s a good amount.”

Cas gives him a look that says Dean didn’t really answer his question.

“Do I even want to know how you know all that?” Sam asks, shaking his head.

The truth is, as soon as Dean got Alicia’s invitation, he immediately went out and bought the three popular D&D books. They were fifty bucks each, totaling a hundred and fifty dollars, which in retrospect is a crapload of pie, but Dean considers the sacrifice worth it. He had spent the next couple of nights not fighting back nightmares, like he usually does, but poring over the pages of the books and memorizing everything he could, taking to D&D like a moth to a flame.

“I listened to some D&D livestreams online, okay,” Dean stammers instead. _Sam_ is the smart, nerdy brother, not him, and Dean can’t take that from him.

“I say we agree rescue Brenda’s grandmother,” Max says. “If only because if we say no, there’s not really a game to play.”

“Do we all agree?” Claire asks. When everyone nods their head, she slams her fist on the table. “Okay, now can I knock back some of this imaginary mead?”

“Claire,” Dean says, acting scandalized.

“There’s only two more months until I’m twenty-one, old man,” Claire says. “Besides, it’s _imaginary_ alcohol.”

“Well, I’m not having any alcohol, fake or not,” Patience says.

“Thanks for your input,” Claire mutters sarcastically.

“Can I have a beer instead?” Dean asks, smirking when Sam and Cas give him identical glares.

“I’m siding with Dean,” Max says.

“Everyone who wants to drink takes a sip of the alcohol of their choosing,” Alicia says, looking tired with all of them already, even though the game has only just started.

//

They’re all knee-deep in a swamp. How they got here, Dean’s not really sure. A neighbor who was the last person to see Brenda’s grandmother alive sent them to a creepy-looking alleyway in town, where a goblin sent them after a man by the name of Dour McStoneface, who then lead them to the house of some rich elf fellow. Who had a swamp for a backyard, apparently.

“I feel like we’ve been walking in this swamp for hours,” Max complains.

Patience rolls her eyes at him. “It’s been about thirty seconds in real time.”

“Dour turns to your group, wielding his staff, and snarls, ‘I’ve brought you out here to kill you,’” Alicia says.

“Didn’t see that coming _at all_ ,” Claire says.

“Can we… talk to him and ask him not to kill us?” Sam asks hopefully.

“Dour isn’t swayed in the least. Roll for initiative.”

“Huh?” Cas asks.

“That’s the 20-sided die, buddy,” Dean explains. “We’re about to go kick someone’s ass.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Cas rolls his die and gets a 20. Of course he does.

Everyone else rolls, a volley of a 15, 14, 17, and even another 20 from Patience. Dean shakes his die in his hands for a moment, even blowing on it for good luck, then releases it. The die rolls on the floor. Dean bangs his head against the table— _oww_ —as he’s going down to look, which Sam, ever the gracious brother, lets out a loud, ugly laugh at.

“It’s a, uh, crap,” Dean says. “It’s a two.”

When he looks up, Patience is giggling behind her hands, and everyone else minus Cas—who’s frowning at him—look like they’re about to burst into laughter.

“Thanks, guys,” Dean grumbles. “I’m glad you find my suffering amusing. I’m going to battle this guy last, I assume?”

“No, actually, I got a one, so Dour is going last,” Alicia says.

Dean puts a hand over his chest, sighing in relief. Then he glares at everyone. “What, is no one going to laugh at her?”

“You’re more fun to laugh at,” Sam says, shrugging.

“I should have never sold my soul to save your life,” Dean says seriously. He doesn’t mean it, obviously.

//

“Okay, Dean, it’s Jensen’s turn now,” Alicia says.

“Give him the final killing blow,” Claire says gleefully.

Everyone else has already gone, and right now Dour is against a tree, pinned to it by one of their barbarian’s axes lodged in his left shoulder.

“I think you’re overestimating my ability to roll a die,” Dean says. “I’ll try to shoot him with one of my arrows, I guess. Aiming for the chest.”

Dean takes in a deep breath, even spending a second praying to Chuck that he rolls well. Then he lets go of his die, his spins out on the table, and ends up being… a one. Huh. Well there’s his confirmation that God isn’t listening to him.

“Jensen nocks a single arrow, carefully takes aim, and then his bow splinters along the middle, and the arrow ends up in your foot,” Alicia says, clearly having more fun with this than Dean is. “Take one point of damage.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Dean grumbles.

It’s Dour’s turn next, and he does nothing but flail around helplessly, which makes Dean feel a little better about his epic fail. Then Castiel, or Steve, steps up, punches Dour especially hard in the face, and Dour is dead, simple as that. Dean whistles in appreciation.

//

Afterwards, Dean grabs a couple of beers for the adults, and they all end up staying up a little longer, watching _The Incredibles_ in the main room. He would love to invite everyone into his ‘Dean Cave’ but unfortunately, he only has two armchairs set up in front of the TV, and he certainly isn’t going to force people to sit on the floor. Dean adds getting a couch onto his mental to-do list.

Max starts talking about a recent case he’d gone on, involving what they thought was a vampire but turned out to be a witch, and Patience tentatively pitches in about her latest case. Alicia and Sam are off to the side, having an in-depth discussion about the differences between sorcerers and wizards in D&D. Cas and Claire are shoveling cookies into their mouth. Dean just watches everyone with a content smile. His beer lays untouched.

Soon—too soon—everyone starts trickling off to bed, leaving just Dean, Sam, and Castiel.

“Did you have any fun?” Dean asks Sam.

“Maybe a little. The _tiniest_ bit,” Sam says, though he’s smiling.

“Thank you for forcing us to play D&D,” Cas says, ever so earnestly, as if Dean had done something like saved his life or let him have the last slice of pizza. Which Dean had done both of many times, just not in this very moment.

“’Welcome,” Dean says, distractingly running his fingers over where the DW and SW are carved into the table.

Cas tilts his head. “Did you have fun too, despite not being the fierce warrior you planned on being?”

Dean doesn’t even need a second to think of his answer. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah I did. I was super pumped to actually play D&D. All too often our life is full of pain and heartbreak and death. To be able to play in a fantasy world, of elves and goblins and wizards, where we can’t get hurt? There’s nothing better. Except, uh, playing D&D with all of you, just being surrounded by friends and family, soaking in all the laugher and happiness, was pretty great too.”

Sam and Cas give him matching smiles, and Sam opens his mouth to say something, probably brotherly and sentimental, so Dean goes on, “Sorry about the chick flick moment.” His cheeks are red from embarrassment.

“It’s nice to hear you consider me family,” Cas says softly.

“Of course you are,” Sam says, because _duh_. Though Dean supposes they don't say it to Cas often enough. They'll have to rectify that.

Right then, Dean’s phone rings. He glares at his phone from where it’s resting on a nearby table. His knees wobble beneath him as he walks over to snatch his phone up. It’s a good thing they’re halfway retired, only taking on a couple of cases here and there, because he’s not getting any younger.

“Who is it?” Sam asks.

Dean glances down at the caller ID. “It’s Jody.” He answers and brings his phone up to his ear. “Hey Jody, how are you doing?”

“Pretty good, actually. Just checking in—are Claire and Patience there? Claire said Castiel invited her over to the Bunker for a game of something, but I want to make sure she didn’t give me the slip again.”

“They’re here,” Dean confirms. “And besides a minor incident where they were arguing over who got the room on the very end, they’re well and unharmed.”

“Okay, good,” Jody says. “Now I have a lot on my plate right now, but I’ve found you guys a case. Obviously, you don’t have to get on it until the morning, but just warning you, it’s a weird one.”

“Weirder than cartoons coming to life and fairies-slash-aliens?” Dean asks, intrigued. At those words, Sam and Cas look over at him in concern. “Okay, lay it on me.”

“Multiple bodies have been found that have… _elves_ ears.”

**Author's Note:**

> ([rebloggable link](http://harplesscastiel.tumblr.com/post/172927623870/dungeoneering-and-dragons-gen-with-implied))


End file.
